


Pull Me Closer

by Sourest_Cherry_Scone_Baby



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Blow Jobs, But it has its themes, First Time, Hand Jobs, Loving boyfriends, M/M, No major WS spoilers, Oh there's also good old snogging, POV Alternating, Penelope Bunce (mentioned) - Freeform, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Shepard (mentioned) - Freeform, Simon has a therapist again, They love each other a lot what can I say, good communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21627070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourest_Cherry_Scone_Baby/pseuds/Sourest_Cherry_Scone_Baby
Summary: I blurt out, “Baz, I want to have sex with you.”I feel him stop breathing.Fuck, I didn't want to be that clear. Crowley, who says it like that? I mean, I did get my point across to him but still. I'm an embarrassment to myself.Fucking hell.Baz exhales slowly as he grips my hand just a bit tighter before he nods. “Okay.”----Or the one where they bumble awkwardly through sex for the first time.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 13
Kudos: 219





	Pull Me Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Simon and Baz are going to have a happy relationship at the end of the day, I know that. So here's a post WS fic in which my boys are communicating like they should.
> 
> Also a HUGE thanks to my beta reader @Pai61. Hon, I don't fucking know what I'd do without you.

**SIMON**

I'm trying not to think about it.

I mean I _am_ trying to think about it, but in a way that doesn't send me spiralling into a panic attack.

Baz is watching the telly, one hand draped over my shoulder, the other resting lightly on his chest. I'm sitting with my head resting on his shoulder, hands around his waist and one of my wings is acting like a cushion, while the other has covered us up like a blanket. I'm feeling so warm and comfortable. I'm feeling good.

After I got back from America (and we dealt with the Watford problem) I got a new therapist. She asked me to talk about my issues with being touched or kissed with Baz. I've told him that while it's fine for him to touch me most of the times, there are still some moments when I'd like some space and some things that I'd like him not to do. It's been working well, I suppose. I've even started erasing some boundaries. Baz doesn't ask me before holding my hand now, or kissing me goodnight. Sometimes, I do encourage him to give me a proper snog.

I like that. A whole bloody lot. 

But... it's not something I do often because while I'm getting better, there's still a lot I need to work on. We've gotten better at communicating though, and we spend more time together. We do things like this. Things like watching shitty movies together while being close to each other.

I've even told him that I love him.

I remember the day when I said it. He'd been about to go back to his flat and I'd been kissing him goodnight. It just slipped out of me, as I kissed him, completely immersed in him and my love for him.

Baz looked like he was going to cry. He was smiling too, laughing even, but he admitted he cried as I kissed him fiercely. It felt like relief and his reaction confirmed that I had made him happy, really fucking happy.

“I love you too, Simon.” He told me, kissing my eyelids, my cheeks, my jaw, my moles again and again, “I love you, I love you so, _so_ much, Simon.”

I asked him to stay that night, I couldn't let him go after that. I didn't want him to go. And he did stay. 

We didn't do anything, we just slept together but it was nice waking up next to him and cuddling close to him. That was a good day.

Now I can't stop thinking about today. And what I want to do.

I've talked with my therapist about sex stuff. I mean I told her I want it with Baz, I really do, but I'm scared. 

Fucking _terrified_ more like it. It's like kissing but way more intimidating. I would have to show parts of me to him. Be completely vulnerable in front of him and it's a lot to take in. 

I want to touch Baz, holy hell do I want to touch him, and I _want_ him to touch me back. But it terrifies the everliving fuck out of me. I don't know why.

That doesn't mean I don't want it. I do.

I think today will be a good day to do it. Penny's not at home (she and Shep are off hunting fairies) (Weird how they've become friends, I _know_ ) (In a rare spark of friendship the boys and I made a bet on whether they are fucking. Aggie opted out) and I would rather if it were just us. Just me and Baz. We can sort it out together.

“Talking about what you want and what you think is healthy, Simon.” My therapist said. “Especially if it involves you and Baz. That way you two can avoid misunderstandings and have a good relationship.”

So this is it, I guess. I have to ask Baz. We'll talk about it a bit and we'll do it if he wants to. Easy enough. 

(No. It fucking isn't but she also said I should try being more optimistic. I don't think it's helping but as Baz likes to say, “Listen to the shrink, Sn- Simon. Please.” For you, Baz. All for you.)

“Hey Baz?” I clear my throat. He tears his eyes away from the screen and looks at me. I know I have his complete, undivided attention now.

“I- I just- I want-”

Baz nods and then without any other word, lifts his arm from my shoulder. He's about to completely disentangle himself from me when I stop him.

“Wait, Baz, what are you doing?”

“I thought you wanted space.” He says, shrugging, offering me a small smile.

“Crowley, _no_. That's not what I meant.”

A moment passes and his smile grows and he relaxes again, resting his head on top of mine.

“What did you mean then, Simon?”

This is a new development too, Baz calling me Simon. I told him that him calling me by my name meant everything to me and I'd like it if he called me Simon. He agreed. Sometimes, though, when he's teasing me or flirting with me, he still calls me Snow. I like that.

“I meant,” I start, picking on the cuticles of my thumb. “I just- I mean I thought we could y'know- um-”

I stop mid-sentence, tugging at my hair in utter frustration. Why can't I put it out of my mouth?

Baz pulls my hand away and holds it lightly. “Take your time, love.” He says, squeezing my palm gently. “Take your time and tell me what you want.”

“Baz I-” I start again and then stop. How do I phrase it? I don't want to dance my way around it, I want to be perfectly clear about what I want. Is there a subtle way to be clear? How do I tell him? What do I fucking say?

Oh, fuck this.

I blurt out, “Baz, I want to have sex with you.”

I feel him stop breathing.

Fuck, I didn't want to be that clear. Crowley, who says it like that? I mean, I did get my point across to him but still. I'm an embarrassment to myself.

_Fucking hell._

Baz exhales slowly as he grips my hand just a bit tighter before he nods. “Okay.” He says, sounding nervous. I want to see his face, so I turn my head to look up at him. He just doesn't sound nervous, he looks nervous too. “I- I want to, too. But are you sure about this? Do you really want to do this? You know I can wait as long as you want me to.”

“I'm sure about this. Really, I am.”

He nods again before he switches off the telly. We stand up together and before I can second guess myself, I pull him with me to my room. I want this. I want him. We can have this.

When we enter my room, I'm pleased to see that it looks tidy. My bed is made, my dirty clothes are in the laundry bag at a corner and my clean ones are in my closet. There are a few stray ones on the chair and my table is piled with books and my laptop but all in all, it looks okay. Penny insists on me keeping my room clean.

“I won't have any part of this flat look like a pig sty, Simon.” She'd said once, wrinkling up her nose at my dirty room.

“It's not that bad!”

“It sure is. Go on, tidy it up. Chop chop, little piggy.” She had smiled at her own joke. Shep had high fived her and I remember scowling at him for teaming up with her. I don't even know what he was doing there. 

It doesn't matter.

Baz shuts the door behind me but he doesn't lock it.

So here we are. In my clean room and we are going to have sex.

And I.

Am _fucking terrified._

**BAZ**

I wasn't expecting Simon to say what he said.

I've been fantasizing about having sex with him for as long as I've loved him (a very long time) and in my fantasies, it didn't happen like the way it's happening right now. It usually involved Simon taking me by my hips and pushing me against my bed and doing so many dirty things to me. He'd make me scream and moan out his name, press me down with his body, and fuck me raw.

Now I don't want that. I mean, I _kind of_ do but not right now. I remember how disastrous it had been the first time we'd tried and I don't want to do anything that'd make him remotely uncomfortable. I'll go where he wants. I'll take what I can get.

“How do you want to do this, love? What do you want to do?” I ask slowly.

I'm not undressed and neither is he and I'll not start undressing until he asks me to. If he wants to back out now, I'll let him. I'd be disappointed, yes, but I won't push him. I would never do anything to hurt him.

He stares down at his toes, chewing on his lips. His tail is thrashing around and it's clear that he's feeling agitated. Before I can say anything, though, he looks up, jaw clenched. He looks like he did when he was facing something he'd have to overcome. Strong, ready for anything and prepared to tackle any difficulty.

“I want it all. I want whatever you'll give me, yeah? I just- I just want you.”

I swallow as he comes closer to me and gently places one hand on my jaw, the other on the back of my neck. His fingers push into my hair and his lips brush against mine as he leans closer and murmurs, “I love you, Baz. I want you. I want this.”

I nod as I gently kiss him back, feeling elated and breathless. I'd never get over Simon saying he loves me. Every time he does, a part of my forgets what I am, makes me forgive myself for the slow beating of my heart and the fangs that fill my mouth. Every time he does, he makes me believe that maybe I'm worthy of being loved, that maybe I do deserve his affections.

He guides me to his bed, never once breaking our kiss, and when my legs hit the bed frame, I stumble onto his bed clumsily. The kiss ends and Simon looks dazed for a second before he stands between my legs and I tilt my head up at the same time he leans down to kiss me again.

His hands are in my hair, and his breath is warm on my face. I'm hesitant with my touch, I'm scared to cross any lines. I touch his back like it's made of butterfly wings and don't dare let my hands push under his shirt and explore his skin, even though I really fucking want to. We might shag later but I'm still going to be careful. I can't hurt him. I can't be that person. The person who takes what he can't give. I want to give him all that I can.

I'm jolted by Simon's hand on mine. Fuck, did I do something wrong? Oh no. I didn't even realize.

But when Simon starts moving my hands and gently guides them under his shirt, to where I can touch his tawny, freckled skin, I realise it's all okay. He presses my cold palms into his warm back and then his hands are on my shoulder and then running up and down my arms, slow and sensuous.

I let my hands squeeze his waist and then guide them up. He leans into my touch, sighing, and breaks off the kiss. His eyes are staring right into mine and he's breathing heavily.

Something tells me that it's not just because of the kissing. Plus, his tail is still thrashing.

“Simon,” I say, leaning towards his chest, “You know it's okay if you don't want to do this. You don't have to force yourself. I- I want to do this with you, really I do, but I won't like it if you are forcing yourself. I want you to enjoy this. I want to show you how much I love you but only if you want it. I don't want this to be forced.”

I would never forgive myself if he didn't mean this and is just forcing himself because it'd make me happy. If he is, then it would never make me happy.

He's silent for a moment and we're staring into each other's eyes.

“Baz,” He finally sighs dropping his head on top of mine, “I want this. I really do. I'm just- I'm just scared. I'm nervous. You're so beautiful, I'm not-”

I make a sound of protest. How can he even think that? Haven't we gone through this? Haven't I told him multiple times that he's the most beautiful person I've ever set my eyes on? But he silences me with a kiss on my hair and continues.

“Yeah, yeah I know. I know you think that I'm some super model or something. I know that. I just haven't accepted it yet and I'll need some time to accept that. So I just- I'm just nervous about baring my body.”

“Okay, love.” I swallow. I wish I could make Simon realise how bloody gorgeous he is. I wish I could make him realise how good he is. That magic never defined his worth and it never will. That he is just as wonderful as he always was. So maybe he has been worn down by the world, maybe he's been hurt, but he's still my golden hero. He's still _my_ Simon Snow.

I don't say that to him. I've told him that before and I will again, for as long as he'd want me to, but for now I just kiss his chest through his shirt.

“Can I- what do I do now?” I ask softly. Simon runs a hand through my hair before he speaks slowly.

“Can- can you undress first? That'll just- I dunno- I mean-”

“I will.” I interrupt him and he nods gratefully.

He steps back and I get up. Nervously, I start unbuttoning my shirt and I feel gratified as I see the colour rise on his face. His mouth is slightly open as I take off my shirt completely and hang it on his chair. My hands fumble with my slacks and I exhale shakily as I step out of them. Simon is still staring shamelessly. I'm almost completely naked now, save for my pants. Crowley, this is it.

My eyes are squeezed shut as I take off my pants. I'm hyper aware of how vulnerable I am and how I must be looking like right now: half hard and stark as the day I was born. Crap, what if Simon doesn't want to do it now? I'm naked and almost trembling and what if he fecides he doesn't want this?

“Baz.” Simon murmurs softly under his breath. “Baz, you're- you're so _beautiful_.”

I swallow again and then open my eyes to see his awestruck expression as his gaze roams all over my body. He reaches out and tenderly touches my chest, his stubby, sword callused fingers caressing my silver scars. The bullet wounds. He looks pained as he looks up at me, eyes almost misty. I could dive into that sheer blue. Lose myself in it. But not now. I have Simon, _my Simon_ in front of me.

He releases his breath slowly, before he comes closer and starts kissing my scars, like his kisses will erase them. Like he can erase the pain that had coursed through me as the bullets had entered my chest, and the pain that I had experienced when my body had pushed them out onto the bloody bathroom tile. 

I know it won't, and he knows that too, but I don't stop him. His lips are feather soft and so warm. His touch is so light, it's almost like I'm dreaming it. But he's here, in front of me, kissing me and my scars, calling me beautiful and I'm well aware that the fantasy Simon is nowhere as tender as the Simon in front of me.

His kisses go over to my neck, warm and wet and open mouthed, making me shiver and tremble under his touch. There's a pleasant heat pooling in my belly and I'm getting harder with each brush of his tongue.

I startle when his teeth graze my neck and Simon jumps back like a spooked animal.

“Shit sorry. Shit shit shit. Baz, fuck, did I-”

“No no!” I say, hurriedly. “It's fine. I just wasn't expecting that and well...” I clear my throat. “I'm just- I don't like teeth on my neck. The first time it happened, it wasn't exactly nice.”

“Oh.” He says. Then realisation dawns in his eyes. “ _Oh_. I'm sorry. I just-”

“It's fine, it really is.” I say, cupping his face in my palms. “I think-” It's my turn to blush now. (That is, if I could. All that blood is still on it's way south.) “I won't mind your teeth somewhere else.”

He blinks and then grins, tilting his face slightly to kiss my palm.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. Uhh can I-,” He scratches his neck sheepishly, giving me a shy, adorable smile. “Can I bite you there?”

His voice goes an octave higher at 'there' when he points at my thighs. Oh, holy fuck. I think I just died and went to a Magickal heaven.

“Yeah.” I'm trying hard to keep my voice steady but it's not working well. “Okay.”

“Can I- can I also give you a- uhh-” He makes an obscene gesture and gives me a wide, shit eating grin. It shouldn't be hot but Aleister Crowley, Simon Snow wants to give me a blowjob and there is no way in the nine goddamn circles of hell that it wouldn't be hot.

“Okay.” I say again and this time, it sounds like a squeak. How embarrassing.

Simon gives me a quick kiss before he goes down on his knees in front of me. He gives me a smile, half nervous and half cheeky, before he runs his warm hands on my thighs, his fingers running on the inside of them slowly. Fuck, that feels _good_.

He licks the inside of my thigh and presses a kiss there, hot and wet and I moan out in pleasure when he bites the skin there, pulling it between his teeth and sucking on it, till there's a reddish-purple mark. My breath is coming out heavy as he bites it again for good measure and then he's placing soft kisses on it to soothe my skin.

Simon Snow just fucking _marked_ me. I'm his. God, if fifth year me saw this he'd probably burst into flames.

I want to laugh with delight at being marked. I don't want him to think that I'm laughing at him though, so I just grin down at him fondly.

He smiles right back, happy and innocent, and he kisses my thigh again. His hands are squeezing my arse, fingers digging in my flesh.

He kisses my half hard cock now before he licks it. It's a slow, hesitant touch, before he licks it again, this time, the entire length of it. His tongue is warm and wet. Then without any warning, he takes me in his mouth.

_Merlin, Morgana and Methuselah._

I moan loudly, my head dropping back a little and my fingers curl up in his hair. He drags his mouth along me, his tongue swirling the head and he's sucking with unashamed vigor. Simon's sloppy, using too much tongue and a bit more teeth than I'd like but as always with Simon bloody Snow his enthusiasm makes up for it. One of his hands is massaging my balls and the other is running along the length he couldn't take in his mouth. Oh fucking hell, this feels heavenly. Stars go supernova when I squeeze my eyes shut and the air is sucked out of my lungs in obscene sounds. Simon Snow is relentless yet strangely gentle and my heart is bursting with love for him.

I'm groaning and panting, trying hard not to buck into his mouth, as he goes at it. I look down and his face is flushed and he looks so fucking beautiful. 

And fucking Crowley, I'm going to come.

“Simon.” I gasp out, breathing raggedly. “Simon- I'm going to- going to-”

That propels him to go faster, bobbing his head rapidly. I am dimly worried he might get whiplash, but my toes are curling and when he pumps his hand again, I'm coming.

Simon yelps in surprise, jumping back in an almost comical manner, my come dribbling down his mouth and chin and onto his shirt. Then he's laughing. I sink down onto the bed, panting, my legs dangling over the bed frame and a moment later, I realise that Simon's shuffling around his room. I see him grab hold of a towel and wipe his face, before he rolls on top of me, nuzzling my neck with his nose.

“How was I?” He asks.

“Fucking amazing.” I breathe out, hardly daring to believe what just happened. Simon chuckles in response before he kisses me hard, his tongue pressing against mine and I taste myself in his mouth. He pushes into me and I push back, our hands gripping each other's bodies. Then without any warning, he pulls back and I can't help but whine at the loss.

“Can you lie a bit farther on the bed?” He asks, kissing my neck again and I nod, my breath stuck in my throat.

I scramble onto the bed and lie down, my head propped up by a pillow and almost only a moment later, Simon follows me, climbing clumsily into the bed. He holds himself over me on all fours, forearms placed on either side of my head, grinning deliriously. His wings are unfurled over his head to their full length and his tail is definitely wrapped around my calf. 

Aleister Crowley, he looks glorious.

I'm reminded of the night we'd kissed for the first time and how he'd held himself up exactly like this. The night when I thought that maybe I could have Simon, after all. It's been around two years since then but it feels like it had happened in another lifetime, in another universe where Simon hadn't been torn apart piece by piece and been left to pick them up and put himself together again.

I push that thought to the back of my mind. Simon's not broken. He's been hurt and he's been wounded but he can be patched up. He'll have scars for the rest of his life but he'll be okay.

Thinking so, I do what I had done that night. I prop myself up on my elbows and reach up for his mouth and kiss him. I'd still cross every one of my own lines for him, I'm still deeply in love with him. In fact, it has grown. It's wreaking havoc on the dignity I thought I had. But fuck it. It's Simon, him and those blasted curls and blue eyes and horrible table manners. 

He smiles into the kiss and deepens it, licking on my bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. When he pulls back, he nudges my nose with his. He's still smiling.

“Baz I'm- I'm going to take off my clothes now.” He says, not looking at my face. He's nervous, I can see that, but I know he wants this. I mean, he just stuck my cock in his mouth so I hope he still wants this.

“Okay.”

He nods again. “Will you close your eyes for a minute? I just- I just need some time.”

I reach across and pat him gently on his arm.

“Alright, love.”

**SIMON**

Baz closes his eyes and I stare at him for a second again. He's honestly so fucking gorgeous, it's making my heart race. The way he'd looked when I had his cock in my mouth, it made me so fucking hot. He'd looked so beautiful with his face flushed and mouth open and eyes fluttering. I did that to him.

I want to do more things to him.

Baz's face is perfectly calm, just like he always is, and his eyes are still shut. I know he's not peeking because he said he wouldn't open his eyes and I trust him with my life. I reach over to the hem of my t-shirt and pull it over my head before I shimmy out of my trackie bottoms and then my pants. I'm just as naked as he is now, though he can't see me yet. I want him to see me though, so that I can see what he really feels about me, yet at the same time, I'm afraid of showing myself to him.

“Sometimes you have to face your fears, Simon.” The Mage had said to me once. 

I immediately push him out of my mind because I don't want to think of him right now. Right now, my thoughts are only going to be about my ridiculously fit boyfriend and me.

I roll on top of Baz again, though this time, I don't hover above him. I press myself into him, every inch of my skin touching his. I feel like someone has set me on fire minus the pain. There's heat coursing through my body, in my veins.

Baz groans when I move against him, my cock grinding against his. His hips give an involuntary thrust and I hiss with delight as it sends a tingle of pleasure across my spine. My lips blindly search for his and I kiss him as we move together; slow, cautious and yet, so fucking good.

His hands are all over me and I suddenly can't understand why I'd been nervous about this. The way he touches me, with so much love and care, it makes me feel like I'm worth something. Like I'm worthy of being loved by him.

“Open your eyes.” I tell Baz. I'm still nervous because I'd never not be, but I want to see Baz. I want him to see _me._

He opens those gorgeous eyes and looks at my face with such fondness, it makes my heart melt. Since I'm lying on top of him, I know he hasn't seen me completely but now, I don't think he'll be disappointed.

Not because I look good, but because- because he _loves_ me.

I roll us over so that he's on top now. My wings are squished behind me, and it's a bit uncomfortable, but it's not painful and I like having Baz's body over me. He grins as he scrambles to hover over me on all fours and now I'm the one who reaches up for a kiss.

Baz supports himself on one hand and the other roams over my chest and I moan into his mouth as his fingers play with my nipples. His hands are cold but they're soothing on my warm body, tracing my ribs, the expanse of my chest. His touch is making me shiver, and when he ghosts his hand over my cock, I can't help the whine that escapes my mouth.

“Like that Snow?” He asks, smirking. His hand is barely on my achingly hard cock, his thumb is stroking it painfully slow.

“P- please.” I whimper and Baz finally wraps his arms around my cock. He pumps his fist slowly, drawing it out, and I'm squirming under him, trying to grind down on his hands. Baz places a hand on my chest, rubbing his long graceful fingers over my stomach and my ribs, playing with my nipples and his hand is slowly picking up pace.

The combined effect has me writhing under his touch, whining and moaning out his name. My hands are tugging at his hair and I push our faces together to kiss him. His tongue is in my mouth and his hands are all over me and I'm panting as I feel myself edging closer to a climax.

“Baz.” I gasp. “Baz.”

“Simon.” He hums against my lips, nipping at my jaw when he trails his kisses down. “Come for me, love.”

It hardly takes me a minute before I'm coming over his hand and on my belly, shivering with pleasure and overwhelmed with my love for him.

**BAZ**

Simon looks glorious as he unravels under me.

He just came in my hand and now he's panting as he eyes with me with a fond expression. He surges up to kiss me again, though it's much softer now. It's slow and tender. It's full of love, like the kisses he'd given me on my chest.

We stay like that for a while, kissing slowly and softly as if a little more pressure would break this moment.

When he finally shifts and breaks the kiss and lays on his side, I grab my wand from the bedside and cast a ‘ _ **Clean as a whistle**_ ' over us. We're both too spent to take a shower now.

“I loved that.” Simon breathes, wrapping his arms and wings around us.

“Me too.”

“I love you.” He says kissing my jaw and yawning.

“I love you, Simon.”

We snuggle closer and as I feel sleep closing over us, I hold him near to me. I don't know how long it'd be before we do it again or if we ever even will do it again. But I'm not going to think of that now. Right now, I only know that Simon is warm and happy and he enjoyed what we did. I know that here, with our arms snug around each other and his wings seperating us from the cold world outside, I'm home.

**Author's Note:**

> :') let Simon and Baz be happy, oh god of gay books :')


End file.
